


The Tale of Genji

by bloodstonepentagram



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Eventual Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sad, Unrequited Love, genji's life is messed up, this is really messed up okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodstonepentagram/pseuds/bloodstonepentagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Genji's life and his relationship with Kinzo. Content warnings in the Author's Note.</p><p>(The first five chapters have been edited since they first went up to fit better with Genji's backstory in the manga.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> **This story is intended to be as canon-compliant as possible. The following warnings apply to the story as a whole:**  
>  -Internalized homophobia  
> -Thoughts of suicide  
> -Alcoholism  
> -Mentions of rape, incest and pedophilia  
> -Probably some eventual transphobia and general misunderstanding of how sex and gender work  
> -General sadness  
> -Probably graphic depictions of violence  
> -A lot of sexual content, some of it potentially upsetting  
> I might add to this list/the story's tags as it progresses.
> 
> This is neither a harsh nor tragic story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've paired each chapter with a Mountain Goats song. The song for the chapter is [Song For An Old Friend](https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=song+for+an+old+friend).

Genji had always seen a resemblance between Battler and Kinzo, but as he stood before him now, six years later, it was all he could do to maintain his composure as he looked into the grinning face of his old friend.  
“Battler-sama, we have not met in a long while,” he said, bowing, hoping his voice would remain steady.  
“Genji-san,” Battler said with a fond smile. They even sounded alike. “It really has been a while! You look well.”  
“Thank you, I have been quite well,” Genji managed. Unable to stop himself, he added, “Battler-sama, you have become a splendid young man… You have grown to resemble the Master in his youth.”  
“I’m looking like Grandfather? I guess that means he was pretty popular when he was young.” Battler giggled, and even his laugh reminded Genji of Kinzo.  
As Genji showed the family through the house he tried not to let his thoughts wander too much. And yet, as so often happened in old age, memories resurfaced in spite of him, rising like flotsam bobbing to the water’s surface in the aftermath of a storm.

Genji had first met Kinzo when they were too young to remember. He did know that they played together almost every day as children, climbing trees, racing through their gardens. They loved to compete with each other, in those days. Everything was a contest with them.  
“Betcha I can reach the top of that hill first, Kin-chan!”  
“No way!”  
They ran stumbling up the hill, tripping over their shoes, shoving at each other as they both neared the top.  
“I win!!”  
“You cheated!”  
“Did not!”  
They would begin to fight, and then wrestle until they forgot that they were fighting for anything other than fun, and then they would laugh and move on to the next game.

As they got older the nature of the competitions changed. They started wandering further away from their families’ homes, and started to discover new kinds of fun, the kind that sometimes involved firecrackers and petty theft, the kind that sometimes still ended in a fight, although more often than not it was Kinzo and Genji fighting together, and things were a little more serious.  
“I’m gonna start carrying a knife,” Genji said one day after they’d been badly beaten in a fight and were limping their way homeward. His arm was slung over Kinzo’s shoulder, and he was leaning on his friend heavily. “That way no one will mess with us.”  
Kinzo just laughed, a full-throated laugh that resonated all through Genji’s body. “That’d be something to see, wouldn’t it? Come on, Gen-chan, try supporting your own weight a little, you’re making my shoulder hurt.”

Genji didn’t end up getting that knife for a long time, until he was much older. It had been because of a disagreement between some boys in the area, he didn’t remember the details anymore, although they’d seemed so important at the time. What he did remember was that a bigger, older boy had lunged at him and knocked the knife out of his hand and it had been Kinzo who had stepped in at the last minute and knocked him away.  
“You okay, Gen-chan?” he asked, leaning in close so no one would hear the old, childish nickname.  
“Y-yeah,” said Genji, feeling a little shaky as he looked at Kinzo, knowing then that he loved him. “I’m fine. Kin-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the heck am I reading? you may be asking yourself right now. So, let me explain.
> 
> **The Revelation of RonoBato**  
>  Ronove has a crush on Battler.  
> Ronove is the fantasy equivalent of Ronoue Genji.  
> Battler, according to Genji himself, looks a lot like Kinzo did when he was younger.  
> Genji has stayed with Kinzo and remained extremely faithful to him for years, despite everything Kinzo has done.  
> Conclusion: Genji is in love with Kinzo.
> 
> When I realized this, me and a friend started talking about Genji's life, really quickly realizing that it's honestly super sad. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I ended up having to write some things down. Those things turned into more things, and suddenly they started to form a story.  
> Then my friend said, "I bet Genji and Kinzo have had sex at some point."  
> I had to write this. I was possessed by the demon Ronove, patron of sad gay fanfictions. This is my curse, and I pass it on to you.


	2. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Kinzo as teenagers in Taiwan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mountain Goats song for the chapter is [Alpha Rats Nest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3M1COqZ5b8)

Adolescence rolled into their lives, leaving a mess in its wake.  
“What about that one, Genji? Hot, right?”  
Genji glanced at the woman Kinzo was pointing at. “Hm? Yeah, I guess.”  
“Your standards are too high, Genji. You’re never gonna get laid that way.”  
“You don’t have any standards, and I don’t see you getting laid either,” Genji said, leaning back against the steps they were sitting on.  
Kinzo shoved him playfully. “At least I like girls.”  
Genji shoved back but didn’t answer, hoping Kinzo was too caught up in himself right now to notice how much that crack had shaken him.  
Genji had known for a long time that he liked Kinzo, but he had thought, when he was younger, that it was only because they were such good friends. But as he grew older, he had begun having…thoughts. Not just about Kinzo, but about his other friends, the dockworkers working shirtless down by the harbor, the well-dressed, successful young businessmen his father worked with.  
His friends, one by one, all began chasing after women, and Genji was left behind. It was like he had never grown up, like he was still stuck as a little kid who only wanted to play with the other boys. What was wrong with him? He had tried, over and over again, to look at the women his friends saw with the same eye they did, to correct whatever perversity was stunting him, but he couldn’t force himself to see what they saw.  
He had even tried taking a trip to a whorehouse with some friends once, but he’d gotten uncomfortable and ended up leaving almost as quickly as he’d come. When Kinzo had asked why, he’d made up some excuse about the women there not being his type. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie.  
In the end he had been forced to give up. He was resigned to being alone. It couldn’t be all bad, right? After all, there were supposedly monks who went their entire lives without ever having sex. If they could do it so could Genji, right?  
None of this conflict showed outwardly, of course. To his friends he was still the same calm, collected, fun-loving Genji. Although he did sometimes think that Kinzo, his oldest friend, might suspect something. At one point he had wondered if Kinzo somehow felt the same way, that they might confess to each other and Genji would finally be able to share these feelings…  
But these thoughts were just delusions. Daydreams. There was absolutely no way that Kinzo had the same…perversion Genji did, and even if he did, Genji could never risk telling him, so he would never know. He had to just put all these thoughts away, lock them up in some dark corner of his mind where they couldn’t get out and torment him anymore.  
This was easier said than done, though. Reminders were everywhere, in his friends’ playful banter, in his parents’ discussions about his prospects for marriage (something that Genji was doing his best to dissuade them from thinking about), in the hot, shameful recesses of his dreams. Kinzo often featured prominently; whenever that happened Genji would have a hard time facing him the next day.

One rainy day, when Genji was roaming idly around his house, he found a book on samurai and began to flip through it. To his surprise, though, he stumbled across a page that made him blush bright red, and carried it away to read in privacy.  
Nanshoku. Written with the characters for ‘male’ and ‘color’. Love between two men. There were accounts of it going back centuries. They existed. The thought lit a fire under him.  
Genji became a collector of books on the subject, sneaking off on his own to hunt for them and hiding them where he was sure his friends and family wouldn’t find them. He had found others like him. He wasn’t as alone as he’d thought he was.  
The more he read, though, the more troubled he became. Most of the accounts were between a superior and an inferior, often an older man and a young one. The boys here were only the penetrated, never the penetrator, and were often interchangeable with women. That was all they were, substitutes for women, means to an end for their superiors. That was all.  
Genji abandoned this line of study not long after.

He needed a release, and started hanging around at any places where people congregated to drink. In some of the seedier ones, though, he found something he had a natural talent for.  
After watching for a while, and losing more money than he was proud of, he thought he’d gotten the hang of it. Then he eagerly went to show his friends what he’d learned.  
It took a little practice to get it right, but when they’d perfected it he was ready to test it out.  
“Find the card.” He offered it to strangers on the street, a little wager, a game of chance. The sleight of hand tricks were the main thing, but what really made Genji good, in his opinion, was his ability to lie with a straight face.  
With more experience came other valuable skills. Showmanship, for example, or the ability to tell when his mark had figured out the con and it was time to cut and run.  
Kinzo thought it was hilarious, and whenever there was nothing else to do he encouraged Genji to pull out his cards and see who he could get. He was helpful backup, too, in the case of those marks who got a little too aggressive when they realized that they’d lost. Normally all Genji needed to do was brandish a knife as deterrent, but sometimes having Kinzo’s looming physique and manic grin at his elbow didn’t hurt.  
The extra money was split by everyone, making Genji very popular in the circle. His escapades meant more booze, food and women for everyone. Of course, he kept the bulk of the winnings for himself, but he did start teaching a few of his tricks to others too, and soon the group was both well-funded and infamous.  
He offered to teach Kinzo a few times, but Kinzo was mostly content to watch Genji work. Genji wasn’t complaining about that. Any excuse to spend time with Kinzo. Maybe he couldn’t have exactly what he wanted, but at least he’d always have his best friend at his side.

When Kinzo came to his door looking worried, Genji immediately invited him inside. “What is it?” he asked, going to fetch some glasses and the strongest drink he could find.  
“I’m going to Japan,” he said. He said it strangely, as if he didn’t quite believe it, and he looked so lost that Genji wondered for half a second if he weren’t on something stronger than alcohol.  
“What?”  
“I’m going. My family… We can't afford our house anymore. We have to go to Japan to live with our extended family. I’m leaving next week.”  
Genji stopped where he was, the drinks he was about to get leaving his mind entirely as he walked back toward Kinzo. “Really? You mean- I- for how long?”  
“Permanently, Genji. We're selling the house. They're even talking about arranging a marriage for me there.” His voice sounded off, hollow.  
Genji didn’t know what to say. “Do you want to go?” he asked.  
“It doesn’t matter, Genji. There's nowhere else to go. I don’t have a choice.”  
“Don’t go.” Genji blurted it out suddenly. Kinzo couldn’t go. He couldn’t.  
“I…Genji, come on, don't be-“  
“Stay here. With me. It'll be fine, I-”  
“Genji, you know I can't do that.“  
Genji felt his chest constrict. He clenched his fists. “I know that you don’t want to do this, but you’re too much of a coward to say no.” He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't stop himself.  
Kinzo was getting angry now, and Genji knew that he had gone too far. But he didn’t care. He was angry too.  
“I came here to say goodbye, not to get talked out of it. And not to be called a coward by the likes of you.” He turned and stormed out again, leaving Genji clenching his fists, his eyes feeling heavy and watery. He stood there for a while, regretful and angry, and most of all, afraid.

“Kinzo!” he called, chasing his friend down. It was a couple days later, and Kinzo was deep into his preparations for leaving.  
“If you’re here to tell me-“  
“I’m sorry.”  
Kinzo fell silent, waiting.  
“I’m sorry. I was just pissed off. I don’t want you to go, sure. We’re best friends, right? But I know you can’t help it. Sorry.”  
As Genji talked Kinzo’s frown was slowly replaced by a grin. “Glad you’re done being an asshole,” he said, swatting playfully at Genji’s arm. “I didn’t want to leave mad at you, Gen-chan.”  
Genji laughed, relieved to hear his old nickname. “Me neither. Kin-chan.”  
“I really wish I didn’t have to leave,” Kinzo said. “But I do have to, you know?”  
“I know.”  
“We can still write to each other, right?”  
“Definitely,” Genji said. “I’ll keep you up to date on this shithole town and you can tell me all about Japan and your weird relatives and this so-called marriage they're talking about.” He tried to slip that last bit in casually, but it was a little more forced than he wanted.  
“Good,” said Kinzo, and Genji really felt like he meant it. “I’ll miss you, Genji.”  
“You too.”  
Three days later, when Kinzo boarded the ship to Japan, Genji was there to see him off.


	3. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinzo and Genji keep correspondence while Kinzo is in Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mountain Goats song: [Source Decay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ef1SuVlkp4s)

The letters came often at first. Kinzo wrote with his usual with his usual humor and flair about his new house, the strange ways of his extended family, his new fiancee, who he didn’t really get along with well, although, he said suggestively, she was pretty attractive.  
Genji wrote back just as often, giving him news about old friends, changes to the town, openings and closings, of local businesses, even just little details about his day. Anything to keep talking, to feel like Kinzo was still here.  
But gradually, although the content of Genji’s letters didn’t change much, he started to notice Kinzo’s getting shorter, less personal. They didn’t come as often anymore either. Genji would go for months at a time without hearing from him. He tried to write back even more, to keep Kinzo engaged, but when he got nothing in return, he, frustrated, heartbroken, started writing less and less as well. What had been a continuation of their friendship became an occasional chore, an exercise in formal writing, nothing more.  
Genji couldn’t even be surprised, or even disappointed really, when after a while of this, Kinzo simply stopped writing back.

It was too bad that Kinzo wasn’t here, because Genji could really use a friend right then.  
His card scams had garnered him a reputation around town, which made it a little less fun and a lot more dangerous to be out and about. He’d started to become a little reclusive, which strained his relationship with his and Kinzo’s old gang. He took to hanging around his family’s house, reading and drinking alone, to his parents’ endless irritation.  
“No respectable girl will ever want to marry a drunken slob,” his mother said on more than one occasion, making Genji want to laugh in her face.  
Unfortunately, his longtime effort to convince his parents that he was unsuited to marriage had ultimately failed, and his mother was always trying to arrange meetings with suitable girls. Genji avoided these when he could, and when he couldn’t he did his best to make things as uncomfortable as possible. Sometimes he had to resort to a touch of cruelty to end the meeting; he didn’t relish it, but it was kinder, he thought, to turn them away harshly then to have them grow attached. No woman deserved to be married to a broken wreck like him.  
He felt bad for his parents. They hadn’t asked to have him for a son. If only they’d had more children, his failure wouldn’t be as hard on them, but the circumstances of his birth had rendered his mother unable to bear more children, so completely had he sabotaged their chances of happiness and normality.

He wished he had anyone to talk to about any of this, but there was no one he could risk telling. Who would he even trust enough to tell?  
One day, head spinning with anger, he grabbed a piece of paper and began to pen a letter to the only person he ever remembered feeling close enough to bear his soul to.  
The letter to Kinzo was never sent. In the end, Genji burned it, like a prayer, half-hoping that some merciful god would wander across the smoke and decide to end Genji’s misery.  
That didn’t happen, but somehow, after writing things out, Genji did find that he felt a little better.  
He began to write these letters more often, the Kinzo who was the addressee slowly growing to resemble less and less the Kinzo that Genji had known, and began to shape himself into an ideal, the Kinzo that Genji had always wished, secretly, that Kinzo could be. A confidant. A source of support.  
But never a lover. Even at the height of his wishful fantasy he could never delude himself that much.

Years passed. Genji continued refusing to consider marriage, but he allowed his father to find some work for him here and there. He spent most of his free time drinking and gambling, getting into trouble and coming home late, sometimes with a police escort, to lectures from his father. He was a disappointment, he knew, but he would've been one anyway, so why bother pretending? He might not be completely happy, but he was, more or less, functioning. He didn't know how long he could go on like this, but as time went by, it seemed less and less likely that anything would stop him.

Then, one day, Kinzo, the real Kinzo, came to call.


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinzo's visit. Heads up, this chapter has sexual content in it. The first of many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mountain Goats song: [Have to Explode](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKudKA9LvZ0)

Genji could scarcely believe it as he stared at the man standing on the other side of the doorway. This man was older than the Kinzo he remembered, his face lined, his hair clipped shorter, traces of stubble on his neck and chin where he had forgotten to shave that day. He looked deflated, somehow. The Kinzo of Genji’s memories had had enough presence to fill any room. His personality was a force of nature.   
This Kinzo, though, stood slumped, sullen. His eyes were blank, like they had lost whatever it inner fire it was that had once lit them.  
But it was Kinzo. Standing on his front step. Evaluating him.  
Kinzo spoke first. “Hello, old friend.”  
“Kinzo!” Genji managed. He scrambled for an appropriate reaction, but came up empty. “What are you- What brings you here?”  
“Business,” Kinzo said with a shrug. “I thought that as long as I was here I might drop in.”  
Business. How long had it been now? Years. Years since their last letters. Years since Genji had all but resigned himself to never seeing Kinzo again.  
“Come in,” Genji said, belatedly remembering his manners. “Let me get you a drink.”  
“Thank you.”

Genji showed Kinzo to his own rooms so they could have some privacy, wishing that he had done anything to neaten the place up. He had always been so organized, but lately cleaning had been too much effort. Books and papers were piled up haphazardly in every corner, and there were more than a few empty bottles as well.  
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Genji muttered, embarrassed. “I don’t entertain much lately.”  
Kinzo looked at him, worry showing briefly in his eyes. Genji chafed at that. How could this strange, sad, solemn Kinzo be worried about him? Genji was the one who should be worried.  
Genji poured them some drinks.  
“How have you been?” Kinzo asked, looking strangely at Genji again. “It’s been too long.”  
What could Genji say? This Kinzo was a stranger, so different from the youth of Genji’s memory and the confidant of his imagination that he might as well be an entirely different person. “I’ve been well,” Genji said finally. “And you?”  
Kinzo looked disappointed, and Genji felt that he’d made a misstep.  
“Well enough,” he said. He downed the rest of his glass, pouring himself more.  
“How is your family?”  
This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, although Kinzo could just be wincing from the generous sip of sake he had just taken. He swallowed before saying, “I suppose they’re doing alright.”  
There seemed to be more to that statement, and Genji waited to see if it would come.  
“I have children now,” said Kinzo matter-of-factly.  
Genji tried to suppress his surprised reaction. Kinzo had been married for a long time now, after all. It would be strange if he and his wife didn’t have any children. “Congratulations,” he said.  
Kinzo didn’t say anything, just looked down and took another sip of his drink.  
Eventually, the conversation turned to reminiscing, and this was a much happier topic for both of them. They told each other stories of youth, laughing, trying to one up the other, testing each other’s memories to see, did you remember this, did you recall that? For a while the strange, quiet Kinzo was his old self again, and before they knew it hours had passed.  
As the shadows began to lengthen, the conversation began to wind down, and although the awkwardness had dissipated Genji felt that it could come back at any moment.  
He looked at Kinzo thoughtfully.  
In the dim light, Genji could clearly see the lines etched into Kinzo’s face. Their years apart had not been kind to his friend.   
There was a long silence, and Kinzo looked away and heaved a sigh. Then he spoke.  
“I’m enlisting,” he said.  
“What?”  
“Tomorrow. I came here to get some things in order first. I thought you should know.”  
Genji didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.  
Kinzo swirled his drink, then suddenly threw back his head and downed it in one sip. He winced and set down the glass with a thud.  
This new intensity was a little startling, and although Genji was outwardly calm he had to admit he was thrown.  
“Genji,” Kinzo said slowly. “My old friend.” Apparently he hadn’t entirely lost his flair for drama. But…was he moving a little closer now?  
“…Kinzo?” He was definitely moving closer, his hand sliding up to Genji’s thigh.  
“Don’t think I didn’t know,” Kinzo said, looking at Genji without making eye contact. “I thought about it myself, on occasion.”  
What was this sudden shift? Genji felt the blood suddenly drain from his face. “I…I don’t know what you’re-“  
Kinzo just kept on, slowly insinuating himself into Genji’s space, his hand continuing its slow ascent. Genji fought to keep himself under control, but it was a losing battle.  
Voice low and husky, Kinzo whispered, “Say the word and I’ll stop.”  
Genji fell silent, breathless. This wasn’t real. He’d gotten so drunk he was hallucinating. He was probably passed out in a gutter somewhere, choking on his own vomit. It was the only explanation. He didn’t want to wake himself up now, though. If this was a dream, well… He wanted to see where it was going.  
Kinzo leaned in, breath hot and smelling of stale sake. His lips met Genji’s with a light bump. He wrapped an arm around Genji, fingers running through Genji’s long hair, and leaned into the kiss. Kinzo’s skin was warm, and his lips and tongue were soft, their steady motion sending swirls of steam through Genji’s body. He closed his eyes, letting himself be drawn in by the sensation.  
Kinzo’s right hand began working its way further into Genji’s hair, giving the occasional gentle tugs which sent shocks down Genji’s spine. Genji could feel his dick starting to get hard, and almost pulled away, in shame, but Kinzo just kept a steady grip on Genji, and Genji, stomach churning, stayed where he was.  
Kinzo’s left hand began to tug at Genji’s waistband, dragging the fabric across his cock as it slid down. Genji shifted slightly to help him, putting an arm around Kinzo’s waist to steady himself.  
There was a moment of fumbling as Kinzo switched the positions of his hands, his left one holding on to Genji’s hair as the right moved downward. Genji moaned into Kinzo’s mouth as he felt the hand wrap around his cock.  
Kinzo began to stroke, slowly, firmly, making Genji moan even harder. As he worked the penis he also resumed his hair-pulling, a little harder this time, the slight pain only making Genji more aroused.  
Genji could have gone on like this forever, but Kinzo had other ideas. He began to speed up his strokes, pulling his mouth away from Genji’s to kiss-bite down his neck, stopping to suck a small circle on his collarbone. Genji bit his lip to prevent himself from openly crying out as the pressure building up in the pit of his stomach began to become too intense.  
More suddenly than Genji expected, he came, semen making a mess of things. He started to utter an apology but Kinzo shut him up with a kiss. Then he grabbed a towel, dabbing at his clothes with it.  
Genji was confused, and he must have looked it, too. But Kinzo offered no explanation.  
“I have to go,” he said. “Thank you for the drinks. It was nice catching up with you.”  
And before Genji could say anything to stop him, Kinzo left.

By the time Genji had gotten his clothes in order and run out after him, Kinzo was nowhere to be found. Genji spent most of the evening wandering around, asking everyone he came across if they had seen him, but nobody knew anything. Finally, red-faced, red-eyed, collarbone still tingling where Kinzo had marked it, Genji returned home to finish off what was left of their bottle.

Two days later, a boy came to the house with a message, scribbled on a little scrap of paper. 

_Genji_ , it read,

_I’ve known how you feel for a very long time now. You tried to hide it, but I could tell._  
I wanted to give you this one thing, before I left. As thanks for our years of friendship.  
I only wish I had more to offer.  
Chances are that we won’t meet again. Goodbye, old friend. I hope you find happiness.

_Your old friend, Kin-chan._

Genji’s vision was blurred as he crumbled the note and fed it into the fire.


	5. Struggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war causes all sorts of problems, and Genji isn't dealing with things well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I know very little about Taiwan during World War 2. If there are factual inaccuracies, feel free to let me know~!
> 
> MGS- [Damn These Vampires](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRTqDG9Mo18)

Genji had no doubt what Kinzo was intending, and he cursed himself every day for being unable to prevent it. For a few days he entertained wild fantasies of running after him somehow, finding him and convincing him not to do this. But deep down he knew he never would. If Kinzo were so determined to die, what could Genji do to prevent it? Genji couldn’t even save himself from his pathetic downward spiral.   
Genji just wished that he could stop thinking about the way that Kinzo’s lips and hands had felt caressing him, the way they had made him feel breathless and hopeful and for just a little bit had made him believe that things could be different for him…  
After a while, though, Genji knew he had to accept it. Kinzo was probably dead. And if he wasn’t already, he would be soon. Genji had already given him up for lost once, it shouldn’t be so hard to do it a second time.  
And if it took a little extra drink here and there to get through the day, so be it. He was in mourning for his dear best friend, wasn’t he?  
He continued living his bare minimum of an existence, doing increasingly shoddy work for his father, then going out and spending all his money drinking and gambling. Occasionally he worked up the nerve to find whorehouses where men offered their services; he would go, finding a different young man each time, take his pleasure, tip well and leave feeling disgusting and disgusted with himself.  
He knew his parents were angry that he came home almost at dawn most days, hungover, rumpled, sometimes sporting injuries from arguments that had gone a little too far. He knew they were nearing the end of their patience with their pathetic, worthless only son. He just couldn’t bring himself to care enough to change things.  
Lost, sad and angry as he was, it was impossible to miss the things that were happening in the world around him. When the war came to Taiwan, it brought every kind of trouble with it. Violence, food shortages, rioting, bombings. Genji, assisting with his father’s work, found himself hearing all about the atrocities happening around him. There was an atmosphere of fear that pervaded every minute of the day. Everyone felt it, and Genji was no exception.  
It didn’t exactly give him motivation _not_ to drink.  
Eventually he just stopped working.  
He had always wondered how far he could push his parents before something really, truly snapped between them. Now he had his answer.  
His father confronted him, and what started as an ordinary scolding quickly turned ugly. Genji had never seen his even-tempered father so furious, never even known it was possible  
“What did I do to deserve such a useless son? Where did I go wrong? Get up! Can you hear me? Listen when your father speaks to you! If you want to be so worthless, you can leave this house! Pathetic, stupid-“  
Genji, who had been sitting on his bed quietly tensed with anger, stood suddenly, shoving his father out of his way. “Fine,” he said hoarsely, grabbing his money purse and his knife and striding out the door before his father had recovered from his shock enough to start yelling again.  
He heard his mother crying on his way out the door. He didn’t stop to look for her.  
The streets were a dangerous place for a lone man, now more than ever, and Genji’s reserves of money were limited. Not to mention, he had amassed quite a few enemies in his years gambling. He did his best to keep a low profile, spending his quickly dwindling reserves of money on food and a place to sleep.  
It ran out quickly, though, especially with the price of food these days, and he had to fight off more than a few people looking to take even the little he had left. He needed more money, and fast.  
He got odd jobs where he could. There were few people who could pay for work, but he was fine with working for food and a dry place to sleep. There was a baker who sometimes let him help out in exchange for the burnt extras. Genji had never tried cooking or baking before, but he found it relaxing. On other days, he would help move crates at the docks, or run errands and messages for anyone who would take his help.  
Occasionally, when he did make a little money, he would spend it on the strongest, cheapest bottle of alcohol he could get his hands on, and drink as much of it as he could before passing out.  
Years passed like this, some more stable than others. For a while the baker let him stay on in his shop as a permanent helper, and Genji did his best to make himself useful. He learned how to bake all kinds of things, and the baker and his wife were kind to him, letting him sleep in their shop and eat his meals with their family. But the shop was struggling in the wartime economy, and eventually they had to close and move out of the city, leaving Genji back on the streets.  
Genji realized, to his surprise, that those years working in the shop had been the happiest of his adult life. He had felt useful there, wanted, even, doing something that was simple, yes, but productive. He had been making something, something that people needed. He had never felt like that in all his years living with his parents. He wondered, sleeping in alleyways and abandoned buildings crowded with war refugees, if he would ever feel that way again.  
There were attacks on the city, and he came dangerously close to being caught in them.  
The war came to an end. Japan and its allies had lost. Some confidently predicted that this would be the end of the trouble. Genji knew they were only fooling themselves.  
All he could really hope, for now, was to stay alive, and hope something good would eventually come his way in spite of everything.  
And one day, in spite of everything, something did.  
He was walking down the street, and at first kept going, sure he was imagining it. But then he heard it again, and then he saw that impossibly familiar figure running up the street after him, heard that impossibly familiar voice calling his name.  
“Genji!” said Kinzo. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”


	6. Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinzo has come back to Taiwan to get Genji, and makes him an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mountain Goats Song: [Hebrews 11:40](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oM-EbBfAidQ)

“You look…good,” Genji said, still staring disbelievingly at Kinzo, sitting hunched over in the ship’s cabin. The cabin of the ship Kinzo had personally arranged to come and take the Ronoue family back to Japan.  
“I wish I could say the same to you, old friend,” he said with a little laugh. “You look like you’ve just been dragged out of the gutter.”  
Genji didn’t bother to respond with the obvious, that he more or less had been. He took a small sip of the drink in front of him, although what he really wanted to do was pound the whole thing back right away.  
“The war has been hard on everyone,” Kinzo said, not without sympathy.  
“Except you,” Genji remarked dryly. Kinzo was looking radiant, wearing newly tailored clothes, eyes shining and alert, a perfect picture of good health. Looking, Genji knew, because Kinzo had told him already about his incredible Italian mistress who had brought him such incredible good fortune, perfectly in love.  
They had not talked about the last time they had seen each other. Genji wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Kinzo had to say about it.  
“Except me,” Kinzo said with a careless shrug. “What can I say? I’ve been blessed with good luck.”  
“I’m happy for you,” Genji said, trying and probably failing at making it sound less forced.  
Kinzo reached over and clapped Genji on the shoulder. The sudden touch started to bring up unbidden memories. Genji quickly pushed them away.  
“Of course, there’s no point in having this much wealth if I don’t use it to help my friends,” Kinzo said. “That’s why I’m here.”  
“Yes,” Genji said, looking away awkwardly. “I…suppose I should thank you for that.”  
“I wish I could have convinced your parents to come too,” Kinzo said, drawing away his hand and sitting back again. “They’re very stubborn people.”  
“Yes,” Genji said, looking down at the rippling liquid in his glass. His hand was shaking a little. “It’s fine. I haven’t even seen them in years. They probably think I’m dead by now.”  
Kinzo didn’t say anything, and Genji wasn’t surprised. If he were his parents he wouldn’t want to see him either, he was sure.  
“I was surprised to find that you’d left home,” Kinzo went on. “You wouldn’t believe how much trouble it was to find you.”  
“I would believe it,” Genji said. People went missing all the time lately. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d become one of them.  
Kinzo took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Finally, he said, “When we get back to Japan. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. I have a lot of money, I can give you as much as you need-“  
“I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I had it,” Genji interrupted honestly. “I used to leave all of that to my father. These past years I’ve been making all my money doing labor. That’s all I know how to do, really.”  
Kinzo considered this for a bit. Then, hesitantly, he spoke. “There is something else you could do… I didn’t want to suggest it, but… You know I’m building myself a new house. I’ll be hiring servants, and I’ll need someone to manage them. Someone I can trust. I can pay well, of course. And you’ll be working directly for me, no one else. I don’t-“  
“I’ll do it.”  
Genji was surprised at his immediate answer, but really, even now, stopping to think about it, it was an obvious decision. Now that he was getting over the shock of discovering that Kinzo was alive, he found that he was really very glad to see him again. He didn’t want to lose him again, not yet. Besides, Kinzo was here selflessly offering to help him, because even after all this time, all this distance and strangeness, Kinzo still considered them friends. Was there anyone else in the world who would do something like this for him?  
In the back of his mind, too, he was remembering his days in the bakery, how good it felt to have a place in a household, to be useful and wanted, to go to bed every night tired from having done a full day’s work.  
“Really?” Kinzo’s face lit up (although, said something in the back of Genji’s mind, not quite as much as it did when he talked about _her_ …) and Genji, in spite of himself, found the smile infectious. “Good. Great!” He clapped his hands together. “This calls for a celebration. And you look like you haven’t eaten in a week. I’ll call for some food.”  
Genji ate like a starving man, which, he reflected, he technically was, and, overfull, retired to the cabin set aside for him, trying not to become sick as he adjusted to the rocking of the boat. He slept like the dead, and in the morning, he woke up feeling amazingly refreshed.  
In the mirror, he looked a mess, unshaven and dirty, the hair that had once been his pride hanging lank and greasy around his face. When had his face ever been so thin, he wondered? He had always been thin, but he had never before seen what he looked like emaciated. No wonder he had been so hungry.  
That day he had a bath, his first in a very long time, and shaved the scraggly growth on his face. The sailors on the ship suspected him of having lice, and he complied, after a moment’s thought, with their request that he shave off his hair too. It was fitting, really. New hair for his new start on life.  
When he looked in the mirror again afterwards, he was nearly unrecognizable. But, he thought, running a hand over his newly shaven head and marveling at the strange feeling of his hand on his bare scalp, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.  
During his days on the ship he ate until his hollow cheeks began to fill out again, he grew accustomed to the constant rocking of the boat, and he spent quite a lot of time in the company of Kinzo.  
The strangeness faded with time and exposure. Genji had never really hoped that Kinzo felt the way that Genji did, but he still felt a lingering tension around him. It was hard to reconcile the happiness he saw on Kinzo’s face with the knowledge that he himself could never make Kinzo feel that way.  
But he quickly found himself remembering why he and Kinzo had been such good friends in the first place. Their old friendship was rekindled within days, and they talked for hours, catching up, exchanging war stories. There were certain topics they both shied away from, though. Their families. Their last meeting.  
It was a little strange, and a little awkward. But more than that, Genji gradually began to feel excitement, and gratitude. Kinzo was here. He was alive. He had come back for Genji, and he had taken him from the path he’d been on, the one that surely led to a short, sad life and an anonymous early grave. He had given him a new life. A new purpose. There were some debts that could never be fully repaid, and he knew now, looking out at the long blue-green expanse of the sea, that he would be spending the rest of his life repaying this one.


	7. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji comes to Rokkenjima and meets Beatrice and the Ushiromiya family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mountain Goats Song: [How to Embrace a Swamp Creature](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rF4rCHK_878)

Rokkenjima was bigger than Genji had expected, not that he had had much idea of what a private island mansion was supposed to look like. He still couldn’t quite believe that Kinzo had this kind of money now. He wondered if he would ever get used to it.  
Construction was still going on all over the island, and Kinzo wouldn’t be bringing his wife and children to live there until it was finished. When Genji saw some of the things that they were working on, he could see why.  
There was at least one person living there already, though.  
“Kinzo!” said a tall, blonde woman with a heavy accent, running up to the approaching ship in excitement. She called something in a language it took Genji a moment to identify as English. Kinzo answered back in the same, hopping impatiently out of the boat as soon as it reached the shore. “Come on!” he called to Genji. “Come meet my Golden Witch!”  
Genji gave up on keeping up with Kinzo, allowing him to run ahead, grabbing the woman, Beatrice, and twirling her in the air before setting her down, both of them laughing loudly.  
Genji very carefully kept his face politely blank.  
Kinzo said some things in English, gesturing at Genji. Genji, who had learned some very basic English once and retained none of it, stood by hoping he looked professional.  
The woman laughed, a loud, full laugh, and said something back. Then she turned her eyes to Genji, and he suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed. Her gaze was very intense.  
“Hello,” she said haltingly, her accent thick, stressing the word oddly.  
“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said back, bowing.  
She smiled, and then turned and spoke again with Kinzo. Genji wondered if ‘hello’ was the only Japanese word she knew. How was he going to communicate with her, he wondered? Well, maybe it would be for the best if he didn’t have to.  
“Bice is still learning Japanese,” Kinzo said to Genji, sounding proud. “You should talk to her sometime to help her practice.”  
Damn.  
Kinzo showed Genji around the island, first to the main house, then to Beatrice’s hidden mansion. A second, hidden mansion, on a private island.   
If Kinzo hadn’t prepared Genji ahead of time, he would have gone into shock. He still had a difficult time believing what he was seeing. Genji had spent the last several years of his life sleeping in gutters while Kinzo had been amassing enough of a fortune to plan and execute _this_. Genji had always known that Kinzo had potential, but this was beyond anything he would have imagined. He had so much, and yet he had still taken the time and money to come back for Genji.   
Genji reflected on this, as they wandered the island, watching the construction workers. Maybe it was true that Kinzo would never care for him the way that he cared for Beatrice, doting on her, hanging onto her every word. But he still must care about him a great deal. Genji found himself overwhelmed for a moment. How could he ever hope to repay Kinzo for this?  
Well, that was obvious. Kinzo had hired him as a butler. If that was what Kinzo needed, then it was up to him to become the best butler that anyone had ever seen.  
And if that meant making peace with Kinzo’s mistress, then so be it.  
The sun was dipping low when they headed back to the boats that would take them to the nearest island, where Kinzo was renting out temporary living space. As they walked, Genji noticed the other building, the one that Kinzo hadn’t shown him.   
He didn’t ask, but Kinzo must have noticed him staring. “Ah, that’s the chapel,” he said, sharing a conspiratorial look with Beatrice. “I’m sure I’ll show you around it one day soon.”  
That was an undeniably strange thing to say, but Genji decided it was probably best not to question it.  
Over the weeks in which the construction on Rokkenjima was being completed, Genji did everything he could to prepare himself for his new job as Kinzo’s butler. He dug up a couple books, one on the role of a servant and one on household management, and poured through them trying to take in everything he could. His new role included hiring servants for the mansion, which Kinzo gave him a budget for. He also took trips to the island with Kinzo occasionally, to learn the layout of the mansions.  
He’d worried, at first, about working with Kinzo, whether it would be distracting or…well, whether it would be painful to him. But his fears were soon assuaged. He and Kinzo, most of the time, were far too busy for him to dwell most of the time, and even when they did see each other, it was usually when Beatrice was around as well. When they were together, Kinzo was so wrapped up in her that he hardly even seemed to notice that Genji was in the room with him. Honestly, at those times, Genji felt about as noticed as the coffee table or the armchair in the corner.  
Which, Genji decided, was probably for the best. After all, all his reading suggested that it was good to maintain a professional distance from one’s employer at all times. (Kinzo protested the first time Genji addressed him with polite speech, but Genji pointed out how ridiculous it would be for a butler to speak to his employer casually and Kinzo had to admit that he was right.)   
The first time Kinzo had him act as a butler in the way that Genji traditionally thought of as butlering, it was when he invited a new friend of his, Dr. Nanjo, over for drinks. Genji did his best to keep his professional demeanor, but Kinzo had introduced him as a friend and insisted that Genji join them for a drink until Genji felt like it would be outright rude to refuse. He at least made a point of stopping after one drink, though.  
Genji was incredibly busy as construction drew to a finish. He had to train the new staff, which included the tricky task of swearing them all to secrecy about the second mansion and, for some reason that Kinzo still wouldn’t tell him, swearing them away from the mansion, and, of course, getting all the rooms furnished and cleaned and ready for their new occupants.  
Kinzo and Beatrice settled in first, Kinzo taking up the main mansion’s spacious master suite while Beatrice spread herself out across the entirety of the second mansion.  
Then Kinzo’s wife and children moved in.  
Genji had known, academically, that Kinzo was married and had three children. He even knew their names, and had overseen the preparation of their rooms. But it was one thing to know that they existed in theory and another thing entirely to _see_ them stepping off the boat and onto the shore of Rokkenjima.  
All of the children looked a little like Kinzo, and a little like the their mother. The one who resembled Kinzo most strongly was the youngest, Rudolph, who had a wiry frame and cocky grin that put Genji immediately in mind of his and Kinzo’s childhood. He had to admit, though, that the girl, Eva, much as she looked like her mother, also seemed to have inherited no shortage of Kinzo’s fiery intensity. The oldest boy, Krauss, most resembled his mother. He was a bit of a loudmouth, who seemed to like pushing around his younger siblings.  
The mistress, for her part, was quiet. She was polite, but withdrawn. Genji wondered if she knew about Beatrice, or at least suspected something. She greeted him politely but coldly. Maybe she knew already that he was a creature of her husband’s, and not a potential ally. He was sorry about that, but there was nothing he could do for her but return her greeting deferentially and bow in the formal way he was slowly getting used to. She retreated as soon as he’d shown her to her rooms.  
The children were a handful. The first thing to do, of course, was to make sure they’d never accidentally stumble upon Beatrice’s mansion. Kinzo fed them some ridiculous story about wolves wandering the forest, and Genji spread it around to the other servants that this lie was to be encouraged. Luckily they were young enough to believe it.  
The next thing, Genji learned quickly, was to keep them away from Kinzo. He didn’t like them much, to put it bluntly. Genji thought he probably resented them, them and his wife. A last manipulation from the elders of his family that he was stuck with forever. He would sometimes show up out of nowhere to shower them with either affection or advice or, much more often, harsh scolding and criticism, but for the most part he liked them well out of his sight as much as possible.  
The mistress, meanwhile, stayed away from Kinzo on her own. She seemed to realize the way he felt about her, and Genji gathered that the feeling, whatever it may have been when they first met, was now mutual. She mostly stayed in her own private areas of the house, sometimes interacting with the children but often just keeping to herself. Genji worried about her, but she didn’t trust him to reach out to her, even if he knew how to, and he wasn’t sure how Kinzo would take the two of them getting friendly anyway.  
The other variable in the Ushiromiya household was Beatrice. Genji didn’t see her as often, since he didn’t spend too much time in her mansion, but every time he saw her she was the same. Friendly, playful, teasing. Her Japanese was always improving. The other servants adored her, but were intimidated by her too. She was beautiful, foreign, held sway with their frightening master. There was a certain mystique about her. Genji tried at first to clamp down on some of the wild rumors going around about her, but they seemed to amuse her and Kinzo more than anything, and eventually he gave up. Just so long as they didn’t say anything about her around the children or mistress.  
And life on Rokkenjima slowly but surely resolved itself into a pattern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you write about Kinzo's wife when there's virtually no information given about her in canon? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Congratulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Kinzo share a drink and talk about the past, and the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TMG song is Autoclave

Working for Kinzo meant rarely having a moment of free time, and Genji’s days were always full with managing the servants, working on Kinzo’s personal projects and keeping everything on Rokkenjima running smoothly. But the best and worst part of his job was those moments one or two times a week when Kinzo would retire to the master bedroom and Genji would be summoned to attend to him. Really, what that meant was that Genji would pour them both drinks and then the two of them would sit and talk.  
Sometimes Kinzo was moody, ranting about some annoyance from work or his family, and Genji would sit and listen sympathetically. Sometimes he was in an amazingly good mood, and the conversation would be a triumphant recitation of his success while Genji listened with interest and gave him quiet congratulations. And sometimes Kinzo’s mood ran more contemplative, and he wanted to sit and reminisce. On these occasions Genji participated more in the conversation, though not by much.  
Quiet was becoming a habit of Genji’s. He thought he was starting to figure it out. Servants were meant to be quiet, unobtrusive, not even there until they were needed and gone again as soon as their task was done. Used and useful but unnoticed, almost like a piece of furniture. He was in Kinzo’s life for Kinzo’s convenience, and he could accept it, because Kinzo was a great man and Genji owed him a great debt. This was what he had been rescued for. This was his purpose.  
And on this night, as on those other nights, Kinzo needed him to be a friend.   
And so it was that Genji uncorked a bottle of wine, a gift from one of Kinzo’s clients, poured out two glasses, and settled down in an armchair opposite Kinzo.  
“Thank you, my friend,” Kinzo said, picking up his glass and taking an absent sip. His eyes were distant tonight.   
Genji took his own sip - the wine, as it turned out, was not to his taste, although he thought it seemed like something that Kinzo would probably like - and waited for Kinzo to speak.  
Finally, he did. “Genji…” He paused, seeming unsure how to continue.  
Genji considered saying something himself, but thought it better to let Kinzo finish his thought.  
Finally, Kinzo said, slowly, “You never told me much about…the time after I left Taiwan. The…first time, I mean. Before…well. You know.”  
Genji froze. This was the closest Kinzo, or either of them, had ever come to acknowledging Kinzo’s visit to Genji all those years ago.  
“There…is not much to tell. I worked for my father for a while. It…I had no motivation. I was drifting. Confused. I was very young.” Genji shrugged, trying to downplay his nervousness. Where could Kinzo be going with this? He hoped that he would drop the subject. There was no reason he could have to bring it up that could possibly be good.  
 _Unless_ , whispered a traitorous part of his mind, but Genji quickly stifled that thought. It would do him no good.  
“Those years were hard on me as well,” said Kinzo softly. “I was just as aimless. I reached my lowest point then. I…” He took a deep breath, and a fortifying sip of wine. “I think you know that when I enlisted, I intended to die.”  
Genji nodded quietly. He had never doubted that fact.  
“But in all that time, when I was being brought to the absolute peak of my misery… I had always thought that you were doing better than I was. I had… When I came to say goodbye, I didn’t expect…”  
“I…” Genji’s mouth was dry. He didn’t know what this was, why Kinzo was choosing now to make these dangerous circles around this dark place, this unspoken place in both their memories. _Unless_ , the insistent, hopeful voice said, louder this time. _No_.  
“I never expected that we were in the same place, then. I don’t know if knowing would have made it easier or harder.”  
Then you should have written more, Genji thought but didn’t say. You should have talked to me, told me anything of value. You should have stayed. You shouldn’t have left me again. You should have…  
It was becoming increasingly hard to regain his composure.  
Kinzo chuckled softly, and Genji was at a loss.   
“I apologize,” said Kinzo. “I’m being so grim. I’ve just been thinking about…how far I’ve come. How far we’ve both come. Because of her.”  
Genji didn’t have to ask who ‘she’ was. Kinzo never shut up about how his beautiful golden witch had saved them all with her money. It was true, she had saved Kinzo, and in that way she was responsible for Genji’s salvation as well. But as much as Genji wanted to share Kinzo’s enthusiasm he couldn’t help but feel a little resentment, at times, of the singleminded devotion Kinzo showed her. Still, he nodded, taking a long sip of his drink until he felt lightheaded and buoyant. Trying his best to emulate Kinzo’s good spirits.  
“I have some good news,” Kinzo said, eyes sparkling, and Genji suddenly realized that he’d been building up to this.  
He felt his heart in his throat as he choked out, “Good news?”  
“Bice is pregnant,” said Kinzo.  
“Oh,” Genji said, struggling to extract the proper congratulatory emotions. “I…Congratulations.”  
“Thank you,” said Kinzo. Fortunately his enthusiasm was great enough that he failed to notice Genji’s lack of it. “I know the child will be beautiful. Only something beautiful could be born of me and Bice, don’t you agree?” He laughed, loud and full, and Genji chuckled weakly in answer.   
“Of course.”  
“This child will be a perfect proof of our love,” said Kinzo.   
“I’m sure it will,” said Genji, taking another long sip of wine. Anything he was feeling now could wait until he was alone. For now, he was here to celebrate with Kinzo.  
Fortunately, blessedly, the night ended quickly. Kinzo was tired, and now that he had given his big news he had little reason to stay awake. After he had retired to bed, Genji went off to his own room, feet dragging as his buzz began to wear off.  
A child. She had given him a child. One thing that Genji could never offer him. And Genji, fool that he was, allowed his hopes to be raised, carelessly.  
Genji entered his room, closed and locked the door behind him. He pulled off his tie, walking straight for the bathroom.  
Kinzo did not want Genji. Kinzo had never wanted Genji, never would want him. Genji was furniture. Furniture. What had he expected to happen?  
He thought of Kinzo, of Kinzo’s laugh, Kinzo’s eyes, Kinzo’s smile, Kinzo’s hand, touching him, ghosting against his skin as if it had been moments ago, and not a thousand years ago a thousand miles away in a dark and neglected room with sake on his lips and so much foolish, misplaced hope in his young heart.  
He unbuttoned his pants, pulled free his cock. It was already so, so hard. He wrapped his had around it, pretending it was Kinzo’s. He began jerking, roughly, almost painfully, not caring. Kinzo. Kinzo. Kin-  
He came with a hard gasp, cum spattering the floor and sink, his pants, his shoes. Pathetic. He was pathetic. He leaned, heavily, against the sink. He didn’t have the energy to clean this up.  
He did anyway, wiping it all away with a rag, making sure his pants wouldn’t stain. Then he went to bed. He would have to get up early tomorrow. The house couldn’t run without him. He would need to call Dr. Nanjo to Beatrice and check on the baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes writing this feels like an exercise in seeing how much I can make myself hate Kinzo. I feel like some of the future chapters are going to involve screaming.


End file.
